Leaving but I don't know where

Every time I leave The Cove, I do my Last Things. Last croquet lawn fireflies, last pond time, last time checking the mailbox, manically trying to get every last thistle in the garden eradicated as more sprang up overnight... but the crazy thing about this round of 'lasts' I did a couple weeks ago is that I'm leaving the place forreal. I'm sure I'll be back at some point soon, some Work Weekend or whatnot, but what I'm getting at is that I was saying goodbye to this place being my home. For the last two whole years, it's been home. A complicated home, certainly. A home that's been a constant rollercoaster of emotions and struggles and success, mixed feelings of wanting to flee and wanting to stay, heartfelt moments and heartbreaking moments, all of them mixed up together and pretty dang confusing. 

On my way out of Capon Bridge I took some time to sit in town at some familiar haunts. The River House, where I used my free drink on my punch card to get my usual (lavender oat milk iced latte in a for-here cup, lol). My weekly Farmer's Daughter burger (best burger in WV!) where the guys remember my name and remember how I don't like cheese on my burger. And a couple days before, I took my last trip to the food order company we use, Schenk Foods, to pick up a big order in the truck and chat with the guys who have been working there since the camp used a bus to pick up the orders (so like, a really long time). It feels good to be known, and to know a place and it's businesses. To be recognized for getting the same thing every single time. Making the same small talk, but in a good way. Heck, even the lady at the deli counter at the grocery store knew me by the end of this Spring. We joked about how much sliced ham and turkey I always bought. And when I left she said "see you next time" because I'd been so consistent. Instead of saying "no you won't I'm leaving for good," I took a sentimental pic of my lunch meat. Here ya go:

Now I'm sitting on a lovely porch in Pittsburgh after a day of huge thunderstorms. I have lit a couple fancy candles, the dogs are next to me, and I'm reflecting on familiarity, home, and feeling like a local. Even here, in a place where I know basically no one, it's been easy to have nice small talk with the neighbors, to get used to driving back to the house I'm housesitting so much so that I can turn the GPS off when I reach a certain highway. I am a regular at the pressed juice stand at the local markets because they take Venmo, so much so that yesterday the person told me that they're pretty sure I'd had that flavor of juice before. The mailman asked if I knew a person named Annie Cohen on Day 1, and today he chatted with me about the funky piece of mail I got. Familiarity. And for these two short weeks, it does feel like home.

Such yummy juice, I am hooked! 

I've been slacking on blogging in recent years. But this blog has been incredibly useful for me to look back on-- I only wrote during times of transition, reflection times, or times of huge processing. And this time in my life definitely checks those boxes. Leaving a home, searching for a new one, writing from a temporary one. And honestly writing this makes me feel a bit less anxious about what is next. I have not had to expend much effort to feel good in my temporary Pittsburgh home. To feel familiarity with things and to feel like a local. I still am continually tempted by the seasonal lifestyle. At this point, I don't think that is going to change. The thing that has shifted is that I am craving that piece of stability-- to have a routine and people at businesses who know me, to go on my walk with Rana and see the same people and exchange the same pleasantries. I want a regular order at some place other than Chipolte, ya know? I dunno, maybe I'm at the point of my bloggy where I should post a sentimental song quote? This Josh Ritter line rings true right now:

leaving, leaving, leaving but I don't know where

Leaving, leaving, leaving but I don't know where

Well I'm going to wrap this up because I'm not totally sure it has a conclusion. Here's hoping I can have a carefree and most importantly stress free summer after these last two years of... not that... 

But come Fall, I would love love love to find a place that can be my place. At least for a little while ;) Any ideas welcome! Ok, maybe I'll blog again about this ~transition time~, but no promises.  

who woulda thunk it

 

A year ago I was wrapping up my last course in Texas and then all of sudden... it was time to go into camp mode. March 2021 was full of confusion, imposter syndrome, interviewing new staff, goodbyes, and contemplative road tripping. Has it truly been a year since then?? It's got to be at least three years... so here is my attempt to lay out *parts of* this past year in the form of:

Things I never thought I'd do ever but it happened.

I'll try and make it a fun mix. 

Never thought I would....

...be in charge of an entire program during Covid. I really had the thought "Gosh I'm so glad I don't have to be in charge" SO many times during early 2020. Even when I came to the Cove to help Vini run the one camp session of 2020, I was very glad to be a co-plotter and not the final decider. But of course.. we were in charge of all those masking and testing and symptom tracking decisions this past year. And we still are.. dammit.

...actually enjoy hanging out with babies. A lot of people in my life had babies this year. And I shocked myself by really enjoying my time cooing at, walking around with said babies, and ooo-ing and ahhhh-ing at them eating solid foods. Turns out babies are pretty cute!

...be solidly in one place for a whole growing season. In April with the help of Scott and Eliza I turned the first beds in the garden, and in late November Jennifer and I put the last layer of hay on top of the freshly weeded garden so it can rest until spring. I loved every bit of having my own garden. Even when the ram pump didn't work and I couldn't for the life of me stay on top of weeding, being down there to see the huge sunflowers and troves of tomatoes brought me a ton of joy

...drive an old ford tractor. This is the tractor David has at the Cove to mow all the fields every fall so that they don't turn into forest. I had to learn to start it and stop it... neither of which are at all simple because 1. There is no starter, you have to touch two wires together for the correct amount of time 2. If it's too cold and you mess up on the said amount of time, you can't start it 3. It will only stop on very certain terrain because it barely has brakes.

   ...speak in front of 300+ people. Public speaking is definitely my least favorite thing. Vini always joked about how scared I was during my very first inspection skit as a wee 16 year old staff member where I got up in front of the entire camp and was visibly quaking... so maybe it was weirdly fitting that 14 years laster I stood up with my dear co-directors at Vini's memorial service and gave a speech. I sure as heck tried to not look at anyone during our speech, but was pleasantly surprised that I did not quake and in fact, it went pretty well. Here is us and the shirtless guy who kept circling on his bike during the service.

...help evac a camper from an overnight accompanied by two goats. There is just no way I could have every predicted that... I mean come on. It turned out to be our only good story of the summer. Like, when anyone asked for how summer was : "well... this one time..."

... haul a dead deer carcass from near the main lodge to a farther woods location. Just part of our duties as camp directors... I never knew! And I am definitely not looking forward to that part when I return to the Cove in a few weeks.

And surely there are a million other things that I can't think of, but I need to finally post a blog, so that's all I got! 

"How did summer go?"

What the… it’s already September?? I’ve been at the Cove for 5 months now, and the time warp is real. Has it sped by, crept along, is there anything else even happening in the world? I currently have a weird amount of time “off,” although you’re never really off when you’re here. There’s always something to clean, or it’s pouring rain so you have to squeegee the decks or else the lodge will flood, or you should respond to some emails, or write a reference, or weed the garden. But for the most part, I am enjoying some much needed relaxing time after an absolutely bonkers summer. Sitting here in my cozy cabin, I can’t even remember why the summer was so crazy—I’m so far removed now that summer was a whole two weeks ago, and I’ve fully caught up on sleep.

The other night in DC I sat at a beautiful Shabbat dinner where we went around and shared a theme from our summer. The first theme that came to my mind was emptiness. We are so used to having Vini’s voice eloquently or humorously explain something, and this summer we only had our three voices. Often it just felt as though we were stumbling along, going through the motions and probably missing a lot of nuance along the way. We would get to the end of a reading, or Final Circle, or Folklore Night, and say something like: “well, that went Ok, but it felt sort of empty.” At the same time we knew that we were still helping create the magic for the campers, and to them it probably didn’t feel all that different. For those who aren’t camp people reading this, there’s a common phrase most often said by Vini—“there’s no fuckin’ magic,” which refers to how life on the staff side of things is a lot of behind the scenes work to create each unique camp session.

Many people have asked me the “how are things going?” question. I’ve said something along these lines:

For the campers, this summer was hugely successful. They loved camp, they can’t wait to come back, and the magic was fully there. For staff, they worked their butts off, seemed to have a pretty good time, and pulled off a ton of magic for the campers, and I think there was some for themselves too. For us Leader Ladies, there were a select few times where we felt the magic for ourselves. I have one distinct memory of feeling really good—Jennifer and I finished serving firsts on burgers on the Bald to the camp session and we sat down on the edge of the group of campers and staff to snarf our own food before serving seconds. The light was gorgeous, all the people around us were happily shouting/ arguing about some fun conversation topic, all we had left to do was Final Circle and then walk down the mountain. I could see the magic happening, I even felt pretty proud of it all, but I was still on the periphery—not fully able to immerse myself in it because of all the other things on my brain of tasks to do and the evening to manage.

That’s not to say that there weren’t other good moments this summer. When I could get out of the office and spend time with campers, things felt good. I spent time in the tree canopy and did a few pickling workshops, got out for a couple games of frisbee, ponded when I could, and went on some evening walks. I spent a lot of time laughing about things with my fellow Leader Ladies too—this summer would have been a different beast if not for the amazing working dynamic we formed. We consistently were on the same page and had the same thoughts about priorities throughout the day, which to us really emphasized how incredible it was that we all were trained/ raised by Vini to know exactly how to approach the various situations that occur at camp.

I do feel really proud that we made it through this summer. The first Cove summer without Vini and during Covid was always going to be a huge and daunting hurdle, and now it is done. On the whole, we accomplished our goals:

• as many campers as possible at half capacity (achieved by 5 one-week sessions instead of 3 two-week sessions)
• as many staff working as possible (staff working less, but hiring as many people as possible)
• staff training because most staff missed a whole year of work due to Covid last summer (practice leading overnights and facilitating and teaching as much as possible, cramming all elements of a two-week session in)
• as far as we know, no Covid cases (achieved by lots of mitigation even when it felt absurd to mask in our “buildings” that barely even have walls)

So there's your mostly surface-level update on how summer was. Of course each day was full of small fires to put out and ridiculous events that are all a blur now, and I didn't have a moment to journal so they will forever be a blur or live on in the few postcards I managed to write during those two months. Now to answer: What's next? Prepping for Fall school groups (they start in less than two weeks), sleeping as much as possible, catching up with people by mail or by phone, maybe looking for a new car, and slightly dreading my 30th birthday coming up this month. I also just signed a contract for another year as Interim Director along with Jennifer. So, the Cove will be my home for the time being. In the winter I hope to bounce around and work remotely, so hit me up if you have any house-sitting, sub-letting, and especially dog-sitting needs!

Ok, the end. I have achieved three whole blog posts this year, so that's a success! Heck maybe I'll squeeze in another with some nice Fall tales, but no promises!

The seasons they are a changin'

Yet another transition time, and even though I’ve done it now dozens of times, it never stops feeling weird. I usually take my sweet time packing up, and leave all my room decorations up to the very end to keep my home intact for as long as I can before I become transient once more. I lingered in Texas for three whole weeks after I stopped working— it was quite good to have an extended time of relaxing and saying my goodbyes and focusing on the community at base for one last hurrah of trail mail and community dinners.

The different thing this time is that I left a place that I’ve been working at for two years (seasonally, but still it counts), and am going to a place that I’ve known for most of my life. And for context in case you think two years is short… that’s the longest I’ve been in a place since my sophomore year of college in 2011. So wow, yeah, the place I’ve spent the most time at in ten years!! Had to type that out to fully realize that! But now I've been gone for 2+ weeks, and I feel Very far away from my desert home. I'm whirling around DC, bouncing from cherry blossom viewings to walks with friends to many reference calls to tackling e-mails to finally meeting up with my team of fellow camp director people in person, not on zoom. I'm trying to take in only a few items from my car, because in a couple days I'll be in WV, moving into a cabin for the Spring, and settling into my busy busy life of prepping the facilities, planting the garden, and ya know, planning for a full spring and summer of school groups and camp.

    

So I'll head to a place that is most familiar to me, doing a job that is semi-familiar to me, working to build community again, and processing what is sure to be a lot of varied emotions. I cried last week on the road as feelings caught up to me. The closer I got to The Cove on my road trip, the more started to feel these waves of emotion that hit every couple of days. Sometimes they’re anxious heart flutters, full of worry about this big new job and all the pressures that come with it. Sometimes I'm just hit by the unfairness and sadness of Vini’s death. And sometimes I think I should feel emotions and feel nothing at all. I’ve been picturing driving by the garden and then by the crop circle and croquet lawn and then to the dorms, feeling the excitement of entering the Cove, and then backing up down the driveway to unload, and looking expectedly towards the lodge, smelling that familiar lodge smell, and… not seeing Vini. I am dreading that. It could be a rough transition from the stat of denial I’ve been in these last few months, to having to face the reality that no, Vini isn’t just working in her garden until dark, she’s just not there. 

And at the same time, she will be there. Every single thing will have her handwriting on it, every google doc has her snarky notes, the garden will certainly have her presence, as will the swim dock and the croquet lawn at golden hour. I’ll hang up my own decorations on the wall of the Phoebe’s Nest, my collection of memorabilia from loved ones that I won’t take down until the moment before I leave the Cove in late Fall. I’ll hear Vini’s voice muttering about how she *still* hasn’t had time to put up her decorations and it’s already May goddammit. I’m hoping after the initial shock of reality hits me, I’ll be hit more often by pleasant recollections, a faint buzzing among my breakfast dishes.

Written Processing- Vini

 I don't exactly know how to start writing this post or what the purpose is. Verbal processing on the phone and in person has been my go-to, but I have a desire to be more reflective in writing as well. To have something that documents my thoughts right now, so I can look back later when my memory is fuzzy. Do I want to describe what these last three weeks have been like? That feels easier than attempting to describe Vini and what she means to me. I think I'm avoiding that reflection, because it feels insurmountable to describe how much of an impact she has had on me, and in which ways.

 I'll start with just the narrative of what happened with me. Day 14 of a 30 day Outward Bound course that was going really well. It was the second afternoon of Solo in the Solitario- a very remote spot in the state park at the end of our backpacking portion. All our students were spread out by their tarps, I was in our instructor base camp 3/4 of the way through individual check-ins with my students. I looked up and saw a man backpacking on a hill nearby one of our students. I made eye contact with my co-instructor Hannah and we were on alert-- it's pretty rare to see other people in the Solitario, and our students would be freaked out to see a random hiker. The random hiker got closer, and we said to each other that the man looked a lot like our supervisor, Will. Seeing your supervisor wandering through the desert towards you when you aren't supposed to see them only means something bad has happened. Sure enough, Will appeared and took me aside and delivered the news that Vini was dying from cancer with weeks to live. I've always thought of Vini as invincible, so to say this news was bizarre to process is an understatement. Vini, sick, in Virginia. Me, in the middle of the West Texas desert, completely out of touch. Will told me about the decision process Outward Bound went through to decide to come tell me. My camp friends had all found out on Sunday/Monday, and worked through many venues to figure out how to contact my supervisors and explain the situation, and that I had to find out as soon as humanly possible. So then on Wednesday, I was packing up my backpack, driving out of the spectacular desert with a vice-grip clutch on my cell phone, waiting to get into service and get in the loop.

That car ride was a looong two hours. And that evening and night was a flurry of phone calls, getting in touch with my dear people and hearing how their process had been, and feeling so strange about being a couple days behind in finding out, not sleeping more than an hour that first night. The next morning I texted Vini to figure out when to call. I was terrified to speak with her. What the hell was I supposed to talk about, was this supposed to be when I said goodbye to her? Would I be going back into the field with my group? Should I attempt to fly East? What about my students? What about the pandemic? How would I feel if I didn't try to see her? How would I feel about going into the field again and being completely unable to contact my support system?

After a ton of indecision and inner turmoil about it, on Friday afternoon I decided to leave Texas. It took me putting myself in the shoes of future me, paddling on the glorious Rio Grande in a few days, out of service and having no idea of what was happening back east for an eight day stretch in the field. Once I envisioned that possibility, it was glaringly obvious to me that I couldn't be fully on course for my students and my co-instructors while this huge thing was happening. And most importantly, I couldn't let a chance to see Vini  go by me without trying. So I said goodbye to my students on Saturday morning as they embarked on their river portion of expedition, and I made plans to leave base until January. Outward Bound was hugely supportive of me, and said they would make it work with whatever I decided.

And even though I still have found myself feeling unsure about it, it was totally the right decision. Being able to see Vini for a few minutes was really difficult, and also I'm so glad I was able to laugh with her one more time. And being able to see my camp friends in person,  to call and text them at all hours of the day and share our thoughts, on the spectrum of happy to heavy, has been exactly what I needed. I needed to be in touch, to process this period of extended shock and grief, to hear about my friends' experiences and share mine. I needed to be with the people who shared this collective knowledge of camp and Vini, because it's just incredibly hard to describe to people who didn't grow up in this community. That whole first week of being home I was totally engrossed in thinking about "it", unable to have trivial conversations with anyone aside from my camp friends. They were all I wanted to look at, be with, talk to. And I still feel semi like that, but at the point I"m writing this point I feel totally able to have normal interactions with other friends too.

My shock and sadness hit me most while I was still in Texas in those first couple of days of finding out and trying to get in touch, and trying to contact Vini. At this point of writing this post it's been almost two weeks since Vini died, and I haven't felt many emotions about it. I've felt conflicted about that-- why am I not feeling very sad, and when will it happen?  Maybe I'm still just numb, or maybe it won't truly hit me until I show up at the Cove this summer and realize that she's not there. I've been doing things like going through all my snail mail correspondence and emails with her, photos, facebook comments, everything I can find with her handwriting on it, trying to see if dredging up these things will make me feel anything. Mostly, these things have made me really happy and sentimental and glad that I'm such a packrat. And there have been countless moments of looking through memorabilia where I think: Oh I need to share this with Vini! And then realize that the only reason I'm home and looking through all this shit is because she's gone. 

So, I'm trying to be OK with however my emotions are. I feel fine right now, less like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I had an amazing dream about Vini last night, and it felt good. We hugged for a while, and she told me things I needed to hear, something in the vein of her being proud of me and that I was a talented educator, aka the highest praise from the educator I look up to most of all. It felt like more of a goodbye than my in person "goodbye." Because how the hell do you say goodbye to a person who means the world to you? 

Photo of the day: Quarantine Edition

Greetings from Snowmass, CO! I am here just... waiting until 1. I am done with my 14 days of quarantine required of anyone coming in to the state and 2. for some other option to come up of where to go during this weird time. My coworker Bennett kindly let me stay for this undetermined amount of time at his parent's place. We drove here in a single (read: long ass) day from Texas, and I'm going to try and tell you what we've been up to in photo form, because we have a strictly enforced photo-of-the-day requirement, and a rule that no two photos can be taken in the same spot. It's been a pretty ideal quarantine situation and I have not been bored yet! 

Day 1: Driving Day! We wore these masks made by Nina and drove for 18 hours, including this shopping trip to stock up for the next two weeks. 

Day 2: Virtual Passover! We hosted a quick seder over Zoom with some Outward Bound friends. I made matzah ball soup and Bennett hid both a virtual and real afikomen. Twas a nice way to connect.

Day 3: Guitar Lessons! Bennett has been teaching me guitar almost every day. I have worked up from Ode To Joy and am now picking along to Worried Man Blues. Our running joke is that Bennett is a really mean teacher and makes fun of my "skills." It is true that I have absolutely no rhythm. 

Day 4: Snow Day! Porch pic from the beginning of the day-- a lot more snow came throughout the day and I tramped around in it and ate some of course. It was pretty bizarre to come from 80 degree Texas to a foot of snow here in Colorado.

Day 5: This Huge Puzzle. We worked on it for 8 days-- a typical morning involved a couple solid hours of puzzling while sipping coffee and listening to BingeMode Harry Potter (highly recommend). 2,000 pieces, so we're feeling pretty dang accomplished now that it is done.

Day 6: Hallway! We aren't really supposed to leave the apartment according to the county rules but I have been carefully going outside for a lil exercise every day. I kick all the doors open to leave and use hand sani on the way in.

Day 7: Avatar. We have been watching Avatar: The Last Airbender every night in quarantine. This began down in Redford where we all watched the first season together, and now that we are separated, Kevin and Carly have been watching and so have we. So one night (day 7!) we video chatted with them to discuss our feelings about the second season.

Day 8: Best Fiends. This is my current quarantine vice. A phone game where you try to destroy evil slugs... we are both obsessed and have definitely wasted hours and hours on it. Here we are, fiending away. 

Day 9: High Tea! Spurred because I found some cooking lavender, so I made an eggless lavender cake loaf and we had tea with fancy jam jars and it was quite nice! Inspiring of course by High Tea at Cove work weekends.

Day 10: Virtual Gaming! We have so far played virtual Catan with Rachael and Thomas on a website and then on this day we tried virual Pandemic using two video chats, a real board on our end, and good communication with Maxx and Jaimie on the other end! Sadly we did not win, but it was a successful endeavor. So many screens!

Day 11: Abs squad! We do 15-min abs every other day with the Redford homies-- a tradition that began during our Redford Quarantine (see previous blog post) and is still going strong over fb messenger video. We mostly just hang out and chat but also do our workout. This day had a strong turnout and many giggles as we were introduced to the wild world of filters by Jaime and Maxx.

Day 12: The Kitchen! We take turns cooking every day. Lunch and breakfast are half fend for yourself, half one of us sometimes makes more of a thing. Dinners have been fun in that one of us is totally responsible each day, so you just wait and see what the other person whips up from our funny assortment of freshies and random dried trail food. I've made Challah for Shabbat both Fridays, and Bennett's specialty has been eggless cupcakes. We made our two dozen eggs last 12 days, wooohoo! Shoutout to chia seeds and applesauce. 

Day 13: Garage Trip. We try to limit trips to the car where the majority of our stuff still is because it's technically a public space, but on this day we went on a mission to grab yeast and Ticket to Ride. Just essentials, ya know.

Day 14: Bath pic! Finally took this one-- it was our plan since Day 1. We each have a bathtub in our rooms and pretty much every night we watch Avatar until 8:30 or 9 and then go take a luxurious bath. Bennet's mom has a lot of bath salts that we've been testing out, and I've brought in an array of candles and I read Terry Tempest Williams by candlelight and it's quite dreamy.

Ok, that's all for now so I can post this today and check that off the to-do list! Despite what our photo count says, we still have tomorrow to be in quarantine and then on Tuesday we are technically free! Well, free to go to public spaces like a grocery store and free to drive to a trailhead. The only parts of our quarantine not included in this photo series is our art table where we watercolor. Hope you enjoyed a peek into our quarantine life! Next up: who the heck knows. I sure don't!

West Texas Quarantine Log

Greetings from Redford, TX! I have been living here since September and have neglected to blog for lack of time and a plethora of other things to keep me entertained, so now here I am ~ a week in to our Quarantine of sorts. It's Saturday and there is not a whole lot going on because for once in our outdoor educator lives we are observing proper weekends.
I thought I'd give my dear readers (aka my mom) a glimpse into the life of our Redford Quarantine. Not gonna lie, it's been pretty swell, especially when I compare our situation to friends who are stuck in their apartments in big cities. Hopefully this post doesn't come off as me bragging about how great we have it. We do have it great, and we are very lucky to have been able to stay here for some extra weeks. We're trying to enjoy this community time while we have it because we know from watching the rest of the world in isolation how special our situation is. In ten days we, The Quarantine Ten, will be going our separate directions into this changed world because the Texas base has to close down to save money.

But until that time comes, we've been keeping quite busy with service projects and events and have set up a system for living here. I'll give you a run down:
We had a long meeting once it was established that ten of us would be staying on base for as long as we possibly could. To stay here we would have to contribute 20 hours of service to base each week to earn our room and board and we would also have to abide by the Outward Bound community living guidelines as directed by the CDC. No physical touch, bleach down every surface two times per day, use your own bathroom only (luckily we each have our own bathroom), don't go into other people's rooms, one person is the designated errands runner.
We had to move things out of the Melon (where we keep tools and supplies) so that we limit people going in and out of certain spaces.

Then we decided on jobs and crafted a Quarantine Living Agreement.
Kevin had all the projects in mind so he was elected to be Bob the Builder.
I was obviously the Post Master, responsible for checking the mail.
Arty was dubbed 'The Explorer' and is responsible for trips to town every three days for groceries.
Maxx is 'Senor Limpiador' or 'Profesor Maximilian' because he is the best at Spanish and is responsible for a weekly Spanish lesson and for making the daily bleach solution
Nina is the Laundry Lady- since we can't go to town for laundry anymore she does it at her house
Jaimie is the Town Scribe- she made all our informational posters
Dan doesn't seem to have an assigned job but he's in charge of the burn barrel
Bennett is the Party Planner, keeping up with our schedule of social events
Brian is still doing his normal job of Program Director
Yoshie and I are tag teaming the food room- we are the Ration Rats and operate the "store" on base where we give out dried food if people need more

Every Sunday we have community dinner. We have to be served food by the cooks, but otherwise it's a pretty normal affair. Tomorrow is Indian food, last week Arty made this beautiful array of dishes.

We have a projector in our community space so many evenings we watch a movie. So far we're watched O Brother, Where Art Thou, Gladiator, 1917, How to Train Your Dragon, and Moulin Rouge. We're been board gaming a ton, armed with hand sanitizer in case we accidentally touch our face while gaming, and a rule that we have to wash our hands before and after. We've collectively played 8 games of Pandemic, 1/2 a game of Twighlight Imperium, and talk of Catan has been in the works for days. We had a hilarious cooking competition a couple nights ago. Each team was given 5 ingredients from the food room and had 1 hour to craft an appetizer, main, and dessert using those ingredients plus whatever else from their personal food that they wanted.

Tonight we're having open mic night, and already today we had trivia hosted by Willie over Zoom. A couple days ago our Spanish lesson was a mock courtroom where we had to split into two teams and argue about the ownership of a dog. As you can see, we're pretty dang busy, and I haven't even gotten into our projects during the day.

As I said, we're expected to do 20 hours a week and Kevin is our task maker. A big project has been filling the ground of the gear-clean station out back with small rocks to promote better drainage. We devised a system of digging for rock 50 yards away from the site and loading it into a wheelbarrow using a giant hand-made sieve to get rid of the dirt.
Another project is painting: we are still working on painting the inside of the Melon, and we unearthed two bathrooms on base that were covered in dirt and random stuff and have painted them and turned them into what will soon be the most popular bathrooms on base, once Nina figures out the plumbing. And it'll bring our grand total of bathrooms on base to 12!

It really is an ideal situation. Very limited contact with the outside world, a very fun community to be in, freedom to socialize and be outside... I love it. Every day I go on a bike ride, typically at sunset because the days have been pretty toasty. We have our neighborhood pups that come visit every couple of days. Someone is always baking something delicious. We do 15-minute ab workouts every other day. I think reality is going to hit pretty hard when our time here is up, but for now, everything is peachy. And boy do we have a lot of canned peaches in case we get really desperate.